


The Mara

by Ninfia_Fan



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Magic, Magic-Users, what else can i add?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 17:05:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5012857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninfia_Fan/pseuds/Ninfia_Fan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mara: a creature of legend, capable of bringing nightmares to sleeping humans. Lukas: a mara with a troubled past and an ever-changing future. Emil: a human with access to magic, and no memories of early childhood. He should not exist. Mathias: the human who may have the most information about Emil. Berwald: the brother of Mathias and a brother figure to Emil. Tino: a human with excellent knowledge on the human body. He could have been a doctor if he’d been born in the upper class. The fates of five people are finally coming together in a world where magic races throughout the land, and humans particular beings. When Lukas, a creature of legend, stumbles upon a small house one night, he does not expect to meet Emil, a human with access to magic, who should not even exist. Struggling to come to grips with his changing world, Lukas resolves to find out as much as he can about Emil, even if those closest to him must die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mara

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Two Versions of Mara!Norway](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/150568) by Aralize. 



> This story has been posted on FF.net under the same name, and you can find me on Tumblr at APH-Hetalia-And-You. I would like to thank Maranorge, and Aralize, who can also both be found on Tumblr, for the inspiration for this story.

Pristine, white crystals fell from the clouded sky, blanketing the landscape in a colourless blanket. The skeletal trees stuck up through the snow, as if they were bony fingers, accusing the clouds of the most heinous act. From these grey fingers stemmed smaller fingers, pointing at various other things that they found offensive.

Some pointed down to the snow itself, blaming the chilly substance for the lack of grass. The snow was unperturbed by this accusation though, remaining as pristine and white as ever. Further down an unmapped trail – known only to those who lived in the area – there was the slightest disturbance in the snow. The soft glow of a lantern announced the rider’s arrival on the back of a horse swimming in its own sweat.

The horse was the colour of fresh rust that had yet to corrode and turn brown and brittle. Its eyes were vacant, and they were the same colour as its fur. On top of the rust-coloured steed was a figure draped in a black cloak, their arms hidden under its folds. His face was downcast, yet he was watching the trail, or what remained of it, as his horse left scarcely any marks in the snow. Magic was at work on this night.

Horse and rider continued in silence, with the latter seeming to be either nonchalant or oblivious to the horse’s heaving sides and pooling sweat. The horse did not like this rider, and it did everything short of throwing him into the snowdrifts. The horse stomped, made its movements as jerky as possible, found every hidden rock and branch to stumble over, yet the rider was not moving. He could sense the horse’s desire, though, to be free of such a cruel creature, but it was not something that he could easily understand.  
Mara were creatures that caused nightmares to humans. They hardly had the capacity for sympathy, let alone empathy. Well, normal mara, anyway. Still, even though he wasn’t normal, he had no need or want to understand the horse’s pain. Besides, they’d be stopping soon, anyway, if the horse could make it to their destination that was.

Riding a horse with no reigns would normally mean that one would have little control over its movements. Again, magic was at play here, too. Magic surrounded horse and rider, an invisible cloak which concealed them. After an indiscernible amount of time, the horse stopped, seemingly of its own accord. Raising a gloved hand from the horse’s side to over its head, the rider was able to see farther afield.

As he made this movement, the cloak fell away from his arm, revealing no skin, no muscles, no tendons. Just the skeletal bones of a human arm was all that he had. His indigo eyes gleamed softly in the dim lamplight; already, the chaotic darkness within was stirring. Why, though? The humble abode he was looking as was still a few hundred metres away, viewable only by magic. The darkness normally never stirred until the nightmares began.

Dismounting, the man released the horse from the confines of his spell. As he hung the lantern on a low-lying branch, the sound of exhausted, heavy footfalls reached his ears. He almost felt sorry for the horse – it had done nothing to deserve such a harsh ride – but at least he didn’t ride it to death, unlike other times. It wasn’t as if he rode the horses in a harsh manner, either. They just tired extremely quickly whenever their rider was a mara.

Stepping towards the house, his blonde hair refused to shine without the dim half-light, preferring to hide under the hood of the cloak. Throughout his short walk, the man left no trail. The door of the house he stopped at was made of solid wood, somewhat worn down in places. A simple metal ring acted as the handle, and it appeared that there was no latch or lock. 

Maybe the inhabitants thought that the imposing wooden door would be enough to ward off thieves. Would thieves travel this far into the mountains, though? It didn’t appear that this house had anything of real value. It was a generic wooden house, with snow smothering the roof. For once, a small green light broke the darkness as magic was used to quieten the creaking of the door to near silence. To wake up any inhabitants now would be disastrous.

Slipping inside, the door closed without betraying its dirty little secret, and the man looked around the interior of the house. In the darkness, the mara could see the outline of a basic table surrounded by four chairs, all wooden. The interior was one large room, really, but there were clear distinctions between the dining room and the other ‘rooms’. A rudimentary kitchen consisted of a thick, wooden countertop, supported by finely crafted wooden cupboards.

Close to the wall, there was a hole in the countertop – it appeared that there was room for a small fire to be built underneath. Maybe one of the humans was a craftsman. Violet eyes blinked in the darkness, refocusing on the main task. The darkness that had stirred as he’d rode returned with a vengeance, urging him onwards. The young man complied, stepping softly on the wooden floor. Unlike his arms, his feet were normal.

He walked over to where the four inhabitants were sleeping. Two shared a bed, but two others had beds for themselves. The two sharing a single bed were entwined in each other’s arms. Even if they weren’t so close, it would be all too easy to wake one, if not both of them. Those two slept in the middle of the room, and, between them and the wall was a younger person. He didn’t appear to be physically strong, but it would be too difficult to get to him, since it would mean edging around the other beds and risking detection.  
That left only one option. 

In a deep sleep just a few metres from him was a man with unruly blonde hair. He was definitely strong, and could probably inflict serious injuries if he wanted to. However, he was also the closest target, and all others were too difficult to get to. Slowly, the mara approached the man, who was sleeping on his side. With a gloved hand, he rolled the blonde onto his back, slowly and softly.

The man barely stirred from the depths of slumber, breathing as softly as before. With hardly a sound, the cloaked individual straddled the man’s chest, pinning his arms with his knees, applying just enough pressure to prevent him from moving. Now was when his magic truly took hold. It began to seep from his body in thin tendrils, darker than black, before it caressed the victim’s skin.

The tendrils of magic were transferred from wielder to victim, in a slow ritual of silence and fear. Gradually, the victim began to squirm under him as the magic took hold. The mara remained still, shifting his weight only slightly, even as the nightmares plaguing his victim intensified. As the scale of the nightmares grew, so too did the darkness within the mara’s mind. In something of a daze, he was aware of his gloved hands slowly snaking around his victim’s neck.

His grip tightened, slowly, at first, but it quickly became apparent. The victim was now becoming distressed, yet the magic prevented him from waking, even as his body fought to get more air. The grip tightened, and the aggressor could feel the life draining out of the human. The darkness within was joyous, relishing in the pain and suffering it was causing. This was what he was born for. This was the perfect way to–

A loud crash echoed throughout the house, startling everyone, especially the mara, who was slumped against the wall. Regaining his composure, he saw that one of the humans must have seen him and attacked. 

“Mathias! Mathias, are you okay?!” The youngest inhabitant of the house was beside himself, his voice shrill. 

The victim – Mathias – groaned as the magic began to dissipate. All four humans were awake now, fussing over their friend. They all had yet to notice the mara in the shadows, so, that gave the creature time to think. How had he been knocked off of Mathias with such force to stun him for a moment? He was a being of myth, of legend; humans should not have that much strength. The mara froze, sensing the magic of another entity, but there was nowhere it could have possibly come from.

What was it that had attacked him? If it was a ghost or spirit, he would have sensed it, at the very least. But, there was nothing out of the ordinary, which meant that one of these four humans must have done something. 

By now, his target was sitting up, breathing raggedly. It was amazing how quickly magic disappeared, despite how long it took to congregate. The mara stood up, as silent as a snake; maybe he could still get away without any trouble. As he inched closer to the door, his focus entirely on the four humans, he nudged the table ever so slightly, but it was enough. Immediately, four heads snapped to him, finally registering the uninvited guest.

The ensuing silence was broken by the sound of crackling magic as it whirled through the air. If the mara hadn’t dodged, he would have been unconscious. A scorch mark planted itself on the wall, and it was quickly followed by two more blasts of pure energy, an incredibly unstable type of magic. Was that kid wanting to kill everyone?! The door slammed open, and the mara glanced back just long enough to see a pale face twisted in a scowl, with his silver hair shining from the magic.

Something flickered across the back of the mara’s mind, but he ignored it by running out into the snow. Again, he used the same magic to keep himself from sinking into the soft, fresh snow; however, the blonde found himself wishing that he’d kept that rust-coloured horse. There was no way he could get it to come to him again, not without forcibly summoning it, and wasting a lot of time and energy. Behind him, more footfalls told him that he was being chased. But that was impossible, unless–

The kid with the pale lavender eyes was following him, mimicking the mara’s spell. His pursuer was fast, too, almost able to keep pace with him. Nothing but heavy breathing filled the forest around them as they ran. Soon, though, magic began crackling and fizzling, whirring through the air as the two creatures hurled the magic at each other. Fire gave everything an eerie glow, lightning provided a stunning display, and water quenched the budding flames.

Standing and facing each other now, human and mara attacked and were attacked. One was fighting to protect those he cared for, the other, for the right to flee. This magic-fuelled fight lasted for a few minutes, but they dragged on for ages. Quickly, the fighting slowed, and laboured breaths filled the night again. The mara hadn’t been expecting a human to have such vast reserves of magic, even if said human had little control over his gift. However, by trying to prevent himself from slipping into the snowdrifts, the mara was steadily burning through his own reserves of magic.

The kid was facing this problem, too. Both were soaked in sweat, and both knew that this fight had to be settled quickly, or else they would both be killed. Magic was deadly, even to the user, and if one tried to use more magic than they had, or attempt a spell that was beyond their level, it would backfire, and the user would be killed by his own weapon.   
However, the mara knew his limits, so he knew that he could fight for another minute. Revealing a bony arm from under his cloak, a string of ancient words escaped his lips. Darkness began to swirl around his arm, eventually forming into a protective guard, with a razor sharp point, that extended about half a metre from the tips of his fingers.  
A dangerous smirk crossed the mara’s face, as he saw his opponent’s eyes widen. The kid with the silver hair subconsciously took a fearful step back, before rooting himself to the spot. The mara crouched low on the ground, using his free hand to provide balance. Snow flurried and danced as the aggressor charged at his defenceless target.

This will be too easy, thought the mara as the space between them closed.

When he was within range, the solid darkness was slammed towards the foolish kid. It would pierce his chest, and if that didn’t kill him, then the magic would ravage his body, until he’d be begging to die. Just as the weapon was going to stab his target, the kid shouted his own string of ancient words, which erupted into an ear-splitting bang and a blast of white light.

As the light cleared, both combatants were sprawled out on the snow, breathing shallow, faint breaths. Both the kid’s and the mara’s minds were scrambling, trying to figure out what had just happened. The mara was the first to try and stand. He failed, so he remained sitting on the ground, his arms supporting his weight. As his blurred vision cleared, he took note of the kid lying on his back, one arm extended towards him, and the other folded over his chest. If it weren’t for his blinking eyes, and his moving chest, he would have appeared to be dead.

The mara waited a few more minutes, during which, nothing else stirred. The ringing in his ears eventually faded, so he tried to stand up again. He was unbalanced, staggering forward and stumbling, but he recovered himself, before he slammed head-first into the snow. The kid was about fifteen metres away, and he hadn’t moved. Did he use too much magic? Or, was he simply exhausted?

Taking a moment to relish in the cooling properties of the snow, the mara gathered his strength again. Skeletal arms pushed him up from the ground, before thin, yet muscled, legs took his weight beneath him. His breath pooled before him in the air in slow, steady puffs, as the mythical creature made his way towards the kid. How long had it been since the explosion of magic? One minute? Three?

There was no way to tell, not out here in the still imagery of the forest. Soon enough, the mara was looming over boy with the silvery-grey hair. He was breathing, but hypothermia would soon steal all life from him. Crouching softly in the snow, the mara’s right hand began to glow a dull green, hidden partially by the dark glove. He hovered his hand over the human’s body, assessing his condition. He was in shock, and he had come dangerously close to exceeding his body’s limits. If that spell he conjured had been any more powerful, this kid would have died.

The kid had escaped any life-threatening injuries aside from his condition, so, in that sense, he was lucky. Still, one question plagued the mara: how could a human have access to magic? The only time a human could use magic was if one of their parents was magically inclined; that is, nonhuman. Was this kid the bastardisation of two stupid people? Upon coming to this conclusion, the mara jerked his hand away in disgust, cancelling the magic as he did so. Cross-breeds between two magical beings were bad enough, though, they were powerful. However, a cross-breed between a magical being and a human was abhorrent, heard of only in folktales.

Who was the half-brained flea who’d caused the kid’s birth? Hell, the mara wished he could find the bastard, so that he could–

“Emil!” The cry slammed the mara back to the here-and-now, “Emil, answer me!”

Looking up, he found that it was his earlier victim. What was his name? Matthew? Matt? Oh, Mathias! The man crashed from the surrounding forest, taking in the situation. The mara could practically see Mathias’ rage erupt to an inferno. Sensing a fight, the mara stood up, though, he didn’t move from his position by the ki–Emil. He also wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle another fight, even with a human, not after the power Emil exhibited.

“You bastard!” Mathias roared, “How dare you do this to him!”

At this point, the two other people he’d seen in the house made an appearance. The taller one remained stoic as he took in the situation, but the shorter male looked as though he couldn’t decide between wanting to snap the mara’s neck, or give into his grief.

“You assume that I’m the one responsible for his condition?” The mara’s tone was cold, bordering on frigid.

This only infuriated the man more, “What, are you saying that something else did this?!”

Even though the mara was not normally one for conversation, he pressed on, “No, foolish human. I am saying that I am not directly responsible for his condition.”  
Just as Mathias was about to spit an insult, the other tall man spoke up, “Stop speaking in riddles, creature.”

The cloaked figure remained silent, curious as to what the new person had to say. He was intrigued as to why these humans were wasting their time demanding answers when their companion was freezing to death in the snow.

“Just what happened to Emil?” The man’s deep voice resounded throughout the clearing, needing no further projection.

“He ran after me, I grew tired of running, and I fought him,” the mara stated nonchalantly, “He unleashed a spell that was too powerful for him, and, subsequently, his body is now shutting down.”

“Wh-What do you mean ‘shutting down’?!” The smallest member of the trio shrieked.

“He’s dying, foolish human,” there was an excruciatingly long pause, “But, I suppose I don’t mind if you’d rather waste your time hurling your anger at me, instead of helping him.”  
This time, silence truly befell the clearing – not even the trees whispered, anymore – as the trio looked at the battered body of their friend, who was so much like a brother, crumpled at the mara’s feet. 

“Move, you bastard!” Mathias spoke up, his voice a harsh whisper. He stomped towards the mara, with only his eyes betraying his fear of the creature. It seemed that he knew what creatures of legend could do. 

However, the mara made no move to attack, and, surprisingly, shockingly, he moved aside. He walked as smooth as possible, but could not hide the obvious limp from the earlier fight. The snow crunched softly under his bare feet, but that was one of the few sounds to be heard. A short distance from the trees, now, the mara turned around to find that not one of the three humans had moved. Were they expecting him to attack? Did they think this was an act?

Feeling his patience wearing thin, the creature of nightmares snapped, “I see you truly don’t care about the boy, then. Good riddance, I say – that kid is a filthy abomination of the magic and mortal worlds.”

Seeing that the mara made no move from his position, the three humans rushed to help their friend. It seemed that the smallest man was, at the very least, accustomed to healing, since he checked the half-breed’s pulse and vital signs. 

It wasn’t long before he came to a conclusion, his voice grave, “Emil’s pulse is weak, and he’s hypothermic. I don’t know what else the magic’s done.”  
Silence was dispelled by the one on the other side of the clearing, “He’s lucky that the magic was under his control. If it was foreign magic, the half-breed would be dead by now. However, since the magic was summoned by him, the majority of it dispelled before it could do any lasting damage.”

Three pairs of eyes turned back to the mara, each of them showing a different emotion. Mathias’ eyes held rage, the healer’s eyes held a wary caution, and the tall man’s eyes hid their secrets. The mara stared right back at them, unblinking and unmoving, the perfect living statue.

“Just who are you, mara? What’s your name?” The man with the deepest voice shattered the still night.

“If you have any knowledge about magic, you would know that one’s name can be very dangerous. If someone learns your first name, they can compel you to do anything they desire, but you can still fight back. If someone knows your full name, then you are under their control from the second they utter your name,” The mara glanced at a nearby tree; had he heard something?

“Still, I suppose if you must have a name,” the mara pondered for a moment – whether it was an act or real was uncertain, “Then you shall refer to me as Lukas.”

“You decided on that name just now, didn’t you, mara?” 

“So what if I did, human?” Lukas mimicked the tall man’s pattern of speech, “A name’s a name, or weren’t you aware?”

By this point, Mathias and the healer had wrapped Emil in their own cloaks. In all honestly, the fate of the kid was looking up, but there was still a chance that the half-breed would die. Lukas wasn’t sure which outcome he wanted. He’d prefer for the kid to die, since he was an abomination, but the mysteries and questions surrounding this kid were very intriguing.

“Berwald, we have to go now. Emil needs to be warmed up!” The short healer’s voice was filled with concern. Behind him, Mathias hoisted the lifeless body onto his back. The kid seemed closer to death than before, but he still had a shot at survival.

“I’m coming, Tino,” Berwald responded. To Lukas, he added, “Do not come anywhere near us again. We’ll kill you if you do.”

As the three humans left the clearing, Lukas remained still. He stood where he was for at least a minute after the group’s departure. The forest creaked around him, moaning in the wind, yet, somehow, it was too quiet, especially after the dispute. All around Lukas, snow began to fall, finally being released from the grey clouds that blocked the moon. It was quite heavy, too; so much so, that the holes in the ground caused by the mage-fight would be filled in by morning. Maybe this would even turn into a blizzard.

Lukas shivered at the thought. Even though he was a mara, he still had his limits. He could survive the coldest winter for three times longer than a human, and he only had to eat one rabbit – or its equivalent – per week. However, that was only when he had all of his magic, not after a huge fight against another magic user. Fortunately, he’d memorised the key features of the area, so he remembered that there was a large mountain a day’s travel from where he stood.

There would be mountain goats, rabbits, or something, and, hopefully, there would be a cave to shelter him. He went to call for the rust-red stallion that had carried him earlier that night, but stopped when he realised that he’d released it from his control. The horse would not have stuck around, due to both the conditions, and the mara’s fear-inducing presence. 

With a sigh, Lukas realised that he would have to walk to the mountain, which he really didn’t want to do. Right now, he wanted to rest; he wanted to sleep; he wanted to forget about the world, if only for a moment. He knew that such a relief was delusional, though, but a part of him couldn’t help but desire an escape.

As he limped in the direction of the mountain, his mind wandered back to the half-breed kid. A creature like him shouldn’t exist. Well, not by natural means, anyway. That means that someone had created him, most likely from magic. But that was also impossible, since only long-extinct magic had the power to create living beings. That type of magic had been forcibly stamped out over a thousand years ago, when it was discovered that creatures with the ability were creating beings more monstrous than themselves.  
For this kid – this impossible half-breed – to exist meant that someone out there had the long-lost ability to create living beings, complete with magic where it shouldn’t be. As the ground was eaten by his bare feet, the mara found that his thoughts were now taking different routes. Why did this kid stir so much emotion within him, a creature whose only purpose was to haunt the dreams of humans? How did this kid exist? Who made him exist?

With his mind whirling, a headache began to form. Searching his mind for a weak spell, he managed to curb the incessant banging within his head. However, Lukas could still feel the aching, yet, he couldn’t use a more effective spell due to the stupid limitations of his body. Feeling overwhelmed, Lukas slumped against a tree, collapsing at its base. Slowly, he drew his knees up to his chest, and rested his skeletal arms on the pale flesh. He felt faint, but he couldn’t pinpoint the issue.

The earlier fight hadn’t done this, he was sure of that, and he hadn’t sense anyone nearby for a while now, so no one could have laid a curse on him. Was his simply exhausted, or was his body warning him about something that it feared? Fear…

Well, there weren’t many things Lukas feared, and of the few fears he knew of, he’d faced most of them already – all except one: his fear of the unknown. Oh, how Lukas feared what he didn’t know. That particular fear encompassed many aspects of his life, but it had never been as persistent as it was now. 

It was that kid, Emil, who had caused this, of that, Lukas was sure. He didn’t know anything about the kid besides his name and appearance. He didn’t know how Emil could use magic, or how he’d been raised, or how he’d come into existence. He didn’t know anything vital about that half-breed. That human – if he could be called that – was an anomaly, a collision of worlds that should remain separate. 

Calming his racing mind, Lukas pushed himself from the base of the tree, albeit with a fair amount of effort. Steadying himself, he walked off towards the mountain again. His body was beginning to heal itself, but the limp still persisted, occasionally forcing Lukas to stop from the spikes of pain. While he walked, his brain calmly sorted through what he knew of Emil.

Lukas knew the human’s name, that the kid had access to magic, and that he could conjure powerful spells. He’d need more information if he was going to form an opinion about that kid. But, where could he find such information? He surely wouldn’t be welcome at that house again, not after what he did. If he approached Emil when he was alone, there would probably be another mage-fight. That could have even worse consequences than what this fight caused. There was only one option, then, and Lukas didn’t like it at all. It would mean waiting until he had all of his magic back, and it would be incredibly dangerous.

He would summon a being that could kill him on the spot.


End file.
